


In Sickness and In Health

by Casey Kelly (Over_autumns_ending)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Cancer, M/M, One Shot, sick!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_autumns_ending/pseuds/Casey%20Kelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was just a little one shot I started writing in between chapters of Stay With Me. It wasn't supposed to be so angst but it kinda got away from me. I only hope it doesn't make Kylie too sad<3</p><p>-unbeta'd so I'll mistakes are my own.</p><p>Terminally ill Cas gets a new roommate in Pontiac Hospital that ruins all his plans for his last months of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness and In Health

     Castiel lay in his bed, eyes untrained at the tree line out the window, when he hears a commotion at the door to his room. It’s not solely his room, there are five other beds in the room, but he’s the only occupant for now.  
     There’d been someone else in one of the beds across from him, a girl, Meg. They’d said she had split personality with religious undertones. She’d complain about this demon being in her and taking control and threatening to kill people. Castiel had found her a lot more tolerable when she slipped into the demonic persona, much calmer. He’d grown quite fond of that one. They’d stay up and talk, discuss biblical text. He figured it was his duty to ask her opinion seeing as his parents were biblical scholars and he was living with a demon according to Meg.  
     More often she’d stay in the demonic persona until she never slipped out of it and started becoming more agressive with staff. She said it was the real Meg getting angry because she wasn’t letting her out. Then one night while Castiel had been asleep she found a bottle of peroxide, bleached her hair, and wrote him a note. Demonic Meg said how much she enjoyed their discussions and “little moments” and how she hoped he liked the new hair color, she did it to piss off Meg. The real Meg had taken over - or been given back control then and told him how she had to kill herself to save them from the demon.  
A nurse had found Meg in the bathroom with her wrists cut, long since gone by morning. He’d thought maybe he’d fallen a little in love with the woman.

     The Pontiac, Illinois hospital was rather small for a decent sized city, so they had a mix of patients in rooms; terminal, psychotic, surgery recoveries, they were all mixed together as long as they weren’t contagious.  
     Castiel was one of the terminals. Brain tumor. He was on his last leg of life; within the next few months - weeks maybe? - he’d die at thirty-four years old. He’d already said his goodbyes to the little bit of family he had while he still looked healthy and normal. He wanted them to remember him in a good light. He wanted to die in a calm, non-dramatic, no attachment atmosphere.  
     And until today, he thought he’d be getting just what he wanted. But God was cruel and had a wicked sense of humor.  
     Castiel watches as nurses wheel in a patient. He eyes the unconcious man curiously, wincing in sympathy pain as they roughly transfer him to the bed and begin setting up IV’s and drips.  
     Castiel waits until most everyone has cleared out of the room and sits up a little more in his bed before waving over his favorite nurse, Anna.  
     “Who’s this?” he asks in a whisper even though the man can’t hear him. He doesn’t think.  
     “We wouldn’t have known if the guy’s brother hadn’t been concious. They both have a bunch of fake i.d.’s and credit cards, probably some kind of criminals or something. Pretty attractive ones though,” she said, sitting on the edge of Castiel’s bed as he moved his legs to make room for her. “This one’s Dean Winchester, brother is Sam. They were in a car accident in the early hours this morning. The brother just has some cuts, a broken arm, and a bit concussed.”  
     “And what’s wrong with him?” Castiel asks, turning his cheek to his pillow so he could look at the man without using up too much of his little energy.  
     “What isn’t?” Anna sighs, leaning an elbow on Cas’ shin. “Minor skull fracture, broken femur, four cracked ribs, tens of cuts and scrapes. It took an hour to get all the glass shards out of him. Doctors put him into a coma; they only expected to have him out for a couple hours, but he won’t come out of it now.”  
     “Christ,” Cas mumbles, looking at the comatose man. He’s very attractive even with the cuts and swelling. There is dried blood still flaking throughout his short military style haircut and his chest is moving very slowly and deeply, three or so tubes snaking out of an almost girly mouth. “Where’s his brother?”  
     “In surgery. His arm had already set so they needed to reset it and put some pins in,” Anna says, getting up from his bed with a tired sigh. “How’s my favorite patient?”  
     “Today was a good day,” Cas answers, looking out the window again. “Not too much pain.”  
     “You let me know if you need anything,” Anna says, kissing Cas’ hair. “Or if your roommate here wakes up.” Cas nods before closing his eyes. Being sick leaves him constantly tired.

     Cas is woken up in the middle of the night, annoyed and out of it. He groans, trying to force himself back to sleep, but someone is groaning, steadily growing louder. “Would you shut up - “ Cas stops, turning his head over on his pillow and seeing the comatose man wincing, twitching .  
     He’s starting to come out of his coma.  
     “Oh.” Cas looks around the empty room, barely lit by the light from the hallway. “Um,” Cas looks back to the man uncertainly. The groans are almost constant with whimpers.  
     “I’m…” Cas pushes himself up into sitting position.  
     “I’m - Just give me a sec…” He swings his barely used legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment to let the dizziness pass. “Nurse!”  
     He tries to balance on his metal bed frame on wobbly legs, reaching one arm for the man’s bed. Taking a deep breath he takes the five steps to the other bed quickly, almost tripping over himself and slinging his upper half onto the edge of the bed. As if on instinct, the man grabs Cas’ upper arm, blunt nails digging into the skin.  
     “Anna!” he yells, patting the man’s rapidly moving chest. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s alright; you have to calm down.”  
     Damn, what was his name?  
     “Relax. Come on, slow your breathing down, David.” The man thrashs.  
     “Not David, understood. Uh - uh, Dylan?” More thrashing.  
     “D - Dean? Dean, yeah. Breathe, slowly. Look,” Cas presses his hand into Dean’s belly rhythmically. “Follow my hand. There you go. You calm down and they’ll take that tube out of your throat.”  
     By the time the nurses get to the room from wherever the hell they were, Dean has been subdued. Two nurses and a doctor surrond them, checking the monitors, Dean’s heart, lungs, and lifting his eyelids to flash a light pen in his eyes.  
     “He’s awake,” Cas says quietly as Anna helps him back into his own bed.  
     Anna glances over at the medical staff and Dean. “Not exactly. He’s semi-concious - he’s coming out of it - but he’s not completely there yet,” she says, huffing as she assists Cas in lifting his butt up onto the bed. “You can’t go being a hero like that again, Castiel. You’re going to hurt yourself.”  
     “I’m fine,” he whines, slowly lifting his legs to slide under the awaiting sheets. “He responded to me though,” he says, laying his head on his pillow so he could look at Dean.  
     “Really?” Anna says softly, following his gaze. “Maybe you just made a friend. Wouldn’t hurt to talk to him some more. Might bring him out of it quicker.” She turns to Cas and slaps his shoulder playfully, “Just don’t get out of your bed without some help again.”  
     “I didn’t want a friend,” Cas mumbles as Anna walks out with the rest of the staff.

     The next morning, albeit with sleepy eyes, Cas uncoordinatedly drags a chair to the side of Dean’s bed. He sits down heavily, catching his breath. The night before had been the most exercise he’d gotten in a while save for an assisted trip to the bathroom a couple times a day. He clasps his hands together and stares at the man, not sure how to start. Anna had wanted him to communicate with the man, but he knew nothing about him other than he had a brother named Sam and their last name was Winchester. Cas wasn’t one to ramble on about himself so he sits there, the only noise coming from the machines Dean is hooked up to, racking his brain for topics.  
     He sighs, opening his mouth, hoping something decent will come out. “Y-Your brother is okay.” He watches Dean stir, his mouth twitching and his hand scooting closer to Cas’ on the bed. “I suppose that means you can hear me, maybe?” He takes a deep breath. “He’s in the ICU. He either got the last bed or they didn’t think you were going to wake up from your coma. I think you’re going to be alright though.” He pats Dean’s hand as a form of comfort. When he goes to pull away the other hand is grabbing his. Cas looks up, startled, but Dean’s face is betraying nothing, completely still.  
     “Suppose, I’m going to be here a while then,” Cas says softly, smirking. “I’m Castiel, by the way. I, um, have a brain tumor…in the final stages. So I’ll be here until you’re discharged. Unless you take a while.” Cas looks down at the freckled hand gripping his. “I’m from here. P-Pontiac. You’re in Pontiac, Illinois in case you didn’t know. I, uh, have a brother named Gabriel. I went to the University of Chicago for Religious Studies.” Cas sighs, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “And I’ve lead a very structured and boring life.”  
     For the next twenty minutes Cas sits in silence, simply letting his hand be held and surveying the unconcious man in front of him. His blondish-brown hair is cut military style, but grown out a little on the sides like it’s been a while since he’s gotten it trimmed. His skin is tanned, his face a bit weather-worn around the eyes and freckled. He has girlish lips, what his crud older brother would call “blow job lips”, but they only add to his attractiveness.  
     Cas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, legs tingling. “I’m not much of a conversationalist - especially when it’s one sided. I have some books. I could read to you, if you like?” He takes the lack of response as a yes.  
     He turns to the nightstand between their beds where his books are stacked haphazardly. “I have…hmm, Frost? Dante? Wells? Vonnegut?” Dean squeezes his hand. “Slaughterhouse Five it is,” Cas chuckles, reaching for the book with his opposite hand awkwardly. He puts the book in his lap and leans forward into Dean’s personal space.  
     “I’m going to need my hand back to read,” he says softly into Dean’s ear, his lips unintentionally brushing the shell of his ear. His hand is released and he pulls back, his cheeks flushed. “I won’t move away without announcing it first. Don’t worry.”

     Cas reads until lunch is delivered, marking his place halfway through the book. Only one tray of food is brought into the room since Dean is getting all nutrients through an IV.  
     “I’ll just take it right here, Adam,” Cas says, waving the young boy over. He’d been working in the cafeteria of the hospital since Cas was admitted. They’d taken a liking to each other causing Adam to make sure Cas had something special on his tray each time he delievered it.  
     “You have a roommate now,” Adam says, bring the tray over with gloved hands. “How you doin’ today, Cas?”  
     “Was in a car accident with his brother. He’s…unconcious, I guess? Figured I’d read to him,” Cas says, waving the book in front of him before placing it on the nightstand. “I’m starting to get tired easily, but I’m fairly well, given the circumstances.”  
     Adam gives a small sad smile before waving and moving on down the hall. Cas settles back into the chair with his tray of food and pokes around. “I’m not very fond of fishsticks, so Adam thankfully adds on meatloaf to my tray on days they serve them. The peas and carrots are rather bland, but I’ve gotten used to it these last couple months. At least they gave me blueberry pie today,” Cas chuckles, moving the peas around with his fork.  
     Dean groans loudly, mouth twitching around the tube in his throat.  
     “You…like pie?” Cas asks, with a smile.  
     “That’s an understatement.” Cas jumps, looking up to the doorway. An impossibly tall man, young but worn old the same way Dean looks to be, stands in the doorway with a smirk on his battered face. “Guy’s obsessed with it,” he says, limping slowly into the room.  
     “You’re Sam?” Cas asks, watching the man sit carefully on the other side of Dean’s bed by his hip.  
     “Yeah,” Sam says softly, giving Dean’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Nurses told me he’s been responding to you.”  
     “Off and on,” Cas shrugs. He suddenly feels embarrassed to have been interacting with this man’s brother, like he needed permission. He shifts uncomfortably, twisting his hands nervously. “I take it you’re feeling better?”  
     Sam shrugs. “About as much as you can after you get t-boned by a Mack truck.” Cas watches the man gently ghost his fingers over Dean’s forearm, worry clouding his face.  
     “You think he’s gonna be okay?”  
     “I’m no doctor,” Cas says, braving a pat to Dean’s bicep. “But I get the feeling he’ll come out of it all alright. I’m Cas, by the way.”  
     “I know, nurses told me.” Sam chuckles to himself. “There all really fond of you.”  
     “And I of them,” Cas smiles, shifting to put his barely eaten tray of food on the bedside table. Anna would get on to him later for it, but he knows there would be a sad glint in her eyes. His appetite is starting to go and other things will be quick to follow it.  
     “So…” Sam looks down in his lap, then all around Cas except for his eyes. “Is this like prison or am I allowed to ask why you’re in here?”  
     Cas is quickly liking him almost as much as the boy’s brother.  
     “I have no qualms with my reason for being here. I got over my anger a while ago. I’m in the final stages of brain cancer.” While he isn’t angry over his fate anymore, Cas still dislikes the pity that filled people’s eyes when he tells them. Sam Winchester is no mistake, he has the best puppie dog eyes Cas has ever seen.  
     He and Sam sit talking idly for a while until Cas begins feeling strange, a flutter in his stomach and tweaking pain at the top of his spine. The last thing he remembers is Sam jumping up and asking if he’s okay.

     Cas wakes to soft laughing and the bright noon sun bleeding into the room. He grumbles and raises his arm over his eyes. He dares open his eyes into tiny slits and sees Sam looking at him with a small smile.  
     “You’re awake,” he says softly, patting Cas’ thigh.  
     “How long was I out?” Cas asks, expecting the answer to be a couple hours.  
     “About five days, in and out,” Sam says, smile faultering slightly. Cas’ stomach flutters; he’s progressing faster than he thought he would. “But, uh. Look who’s finally up and at ‘em.”  
     Cas follows Sam’s gaze to his left and drops his arm, eyes going wide. “Dean,” he says, breathless as a teenage girl.  
     “Hey, Cas,” Dean smiles, wobbly on his crutches as he squeezes Cas’ hand. “Glad you’re awake, man.” God, his voice is even sexier than Cas could imagine. He blushes at the thought.  
     “I’ll leave you guys alone,” Sam says, getting up and nodding towards Cas. “You take care of yourself. And Dean I’ll be by tomorrow morning.” The brothers hug gently, Dean wincing slightly. He doesn’t speak until Sam leaves the room.  
     “You - mind if I sit here?” Dean asks, patting the edge of Cas’ bed. Cas agrees. “I…” He clears his throat, not letting his eyes stay on Cas for more than a second. “I wanna thank you…for keeping me company while I was out. I don’t remember much, but Sam and the nurses - they told me. I remember your voice though.”  
     Cas doesn’t know what posesses him in that moment, but he takes Dean’s hand in his. “You’re welcome, Dean.” Dean doesn’t pull away so Cas continues to grip the man’s hand in his. “You’re walking already, I see.”  
     Dean shrugs, looking at his crutches in distaste. “Not without these fuckers and not for very long at a time.”  
     “You’ll get there.”  
     Cas watches Dean watch their intertwined hands until he says, “No one would tell me why you’re in here. That redhead nurse said she wasn’t allowed and Sam is pretending his doesn’t know, but I know he does. Y-you’re…you’re gonna be okay, aren’t you?”  
     It’s then that Cas realizes what’s happened right under his nose without him even realizing it. He’s complicated the last moments of his life. After he took all that care to end his ties with friends and family, he’s gone and jumped into a friendship, maybe more.  
     “Does it really matter?” Cas practically moans, letting go of Dean’s hand.  
     “I think I deserve - “ Dean takes a breath. “I’d like to know. It’s important to me.”  
     Cas stares out the window so long he almost forgets they were having a conversation. “Brain cancer, essentially. I have a rapidly growing tumor at the base of my brain stem. They gave me eight more months, but,” he motions his hand down his body. “It looks like it’s all speeding up.”  
     “And there’s nothing - “  
     “There’s nothing they can do, no.” Cas can feel himself becoming irritated; he didn’t ask for this. “Nothing that wouldn’t kill me quicker than the tumor,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Look, Dean. I came in here having severed ties with the people I knew. I didn’t want things complicated when I go. I’m not going to pretend there isn’t some strange connection I feel towards you, but please. I enjoy your company, let’s not complicate it anymore than that.”  
     “Yeah,” Dean says, clearing his throat. “Yeah, okay.”  
     They stare at each other for a moment and Cas feels something lurch in his chest.  
     “So, we get pie with lunch today?” Dean asks, tapping Cas’ hip for him to scoot over. Cas moves as much as his weakening body allows, which is not much, leaving Dean to lie half on top of him when he stretches out on the bed, sharing Cas’ pillow.  
     “Only on Thursdays,” Cas says, letting his aching head settle against Dean’s head.  
     “What kind of prison is this?” Dean mumbles, making Cas chuckle under his breath.  
     “I see that Sam has been released,” Cas says.  
     “Yeah, lucky bastard,” Dean growls. “He’s got a room at the motel a couple blocks away. Said my baby is totalled. As soon as I get out of here, I’m gonna fix ‘er up and you’ll see how gorgeous she is.”  
     “I’m a little tired…I’m just gonna sleep a little,” Cas says between yawns, burrowing into Dean’s warm body. “Wake me up when they bring lunch? And keep talking, it’s very soothing.”  
  
     And that is their routine for the next couple months. Dean is great at rambling and has plenty of stories about his life on the road with his younger brother and his father before he passed away. It doesn’t go unnoticed that Cas is sleeping more and more, but it does go unmentioned or disguised under the excuse of the weather beginning to get colder.  
     They bicker as much as anyone who is with the same person day in and day out, mostly when Dean tries to press the issue of Cas’ lack of treatment or his body’s timer that is rapidly running down. It worsens as they watch Dean regain his strength, only for Cas to lose more of his independence.  
     By October, Cas has to be assisted when showering and Dean is given a clean bill of health and released from the hospital, though he spends more of his time visiting Cas than he does in the motel room with Sam.  
     “I don’t have anything else to do with my time, just let me be here, Cas,” Dean always says. And how can Cas deny that? He convinces his doctor and Dean to wheel him down to the children’s ward the night of Halloween to watch them dress up and trick or treat between each other’s rooms. Dean doesn’t leave his side the entire night except to snag some mini chocolate bars from the bowl at the Nurse’s Station.  
     “I don’t have to worry about watching my figure,” Dean says, tearing into his sixth snickers bar. “What are you gonna do? Wheel out of my life?” Cas glowers at him, attempting to hide his smirk as a mini Hannah Montana gently tugs on the sleeve of his robe.  
     “Yes?” Cas smiles.  
     “I like your hair,” she giggles behind her hand.  
     Cas blushes, reaching up to smooth the hair he’s sure is sticking up every which way. “Yours is much prettier,” Cas says, pointing at her golden wig.  
     “It’s not mine,” she says solemnly, tugging at it so it slips back a little to reveal her balding head, thin patches of sandy-blonde hair peeking out.  
     Cas positions the wig back over the girl’s head gently before pushing back a section of his hair, showing his own thinning patch of hair. “We’ll lose it together,” he winks, letting his hair fall forward again.  
     “Well I think you’re both gorgeous,” Dean interrupts, squatting down next to Cas’ wheelchair. He takes his cellphone out and flips it open. “Mind if I take a picture? I think Cas here is gonna want to remember the night he met you, Miss Montana.”  
     The little girl beams up at the both of them and nods. Dean takes a second to guide the girl into a good position next to Cas and snaps the picture.  
     They stay on the children’s ward a little while longer, until Cas starts to look more worn out than he usually does. Once up to his room, Dean gets him tucked into his bed, adding an extra blanket to the growing pile on top of him.  
     “Did Sam already come by today?” Cas asks as Dean trails a finger along his now even more prominate cheekbone.  
     Dean screws his eyebrows up together. “Y-Yeah, Cas. He came by before dinner. We sat out on the lawn with him for almost two hours. Don’t you remember?”  
     “Oh right. Yes of course I remember,” Cas laughs breathlessly. “Are you leaving now?” His eyes are already on their way to closing as he grabs for Dean’s hand at his side.  
     “Yeah, but I’ll be back bright and early. I love you,” Dean says, squeezing Cas’ hand before tucking it under the blankets.  
     “You need to be out doing things, not in here with me all day,” Cas whispers, half-asleep. Dean has been dropping the I love you’s for a month and Cas has steadily tip-toed around them.  
     “Night, Cas,” Dean whispers, backing away towards the door to the room.  
     “Mmm, night,” Cas mumbles, already on his way to dreaming.

     By Thanksgiving, Cas and Dean are fighting more often than not. Sam and Dean are crowded around Cas who hasn’t had the strength to get out of bed in two days, laughing over their full bellies as Cas stares down at his untouched plate of food. Just the sight of it makes him queasy.  
     “Come on, Cas,” Dean persuades. “Just a bite or two. The stuffing’s really good.”  
     “I’m not hungry, Dean,” Cas whispers, leaning back against his pillow.  
     “You haven’t eat since yesterday - “  
     “I said, I’m not hungry, Dean,” Cas repeats, slow and deadly.  
     “O-okay. Sure, we’ll keep it for later with Anna,” Dean says, stroking Cas’ thin limp hair. “We’ll just let her know when you’re ready for it. It’s a lot of food anyway. I mean, not everyone can eat so much and keep such a dainty figure as me - “  
     “I’m exhausted,” Cas interrupts. “I’m going to skip ahead through this wonderful holiday and sleep. I assume I’ll see you tomorrow.” His sarcasm is not missed on anyone. Sam stands, clearing his throat and says his goodbyes. Cas already has his eyes closed before Dean bends down to kiss him. Cas scrunches his nose in distaste at the feeling of how chapped his own lips are.  
     “I love you,” Dean whispers. Cas can feel him hovering, waiting to see if just maybe he’ll hear it back. Cas bites down on the inside of his cheek and turns his head, feigning sleep and hiding the droplet of tears seeping out of his closed lids.  
     Dean doesn’t come by the next day or the day after that. Anna asks him about it, but he dismisses it.  
     Sam is the one to come visit, immediately bring up Dean. “He wanted to give you some space, not annoy you. He…he’s a natural caretaker, Cas. It’s what he’s done since we were little. It’s in his blood,” Sam says. “And he’s scared. I know you’re the one that’s…”  
     “Dying. I’m dying,” Cas says weakly.  
     “Yeah, but he’s going through it too, man. We’ve lost a lot of people in our lives, but it’s different when it’s family and when it’s someone you’re in love with. I would know,” Sam says, seeming far off for a moment. “But Dean - he’s pretty new to this stuff. I know it’s hard for you, more so, but please go a little easier on him.”  
     Sam doesn’t stay much longer after that and Dean doesn’t visit for another two days.  
     The day he finally comes to the hospital, Cas can hear his boots from down the hall. Anna stops him outside of the room, thinking Cas can’t hear them.  
     “Dean,” she says under her breath. “I just want you to know - it’s all happening a lot faster now. The doctors don’t think…”  
     “How long?” Dean whispers gruffly. “How long are they giving him?”  
     “After Christmas if we’re lucky,” Anna says.  
     Dean doesn’t say anything to her before he pushes his way into Cas’ room, glassy eyes transfixed on Cas. He hasn’t seen himself in a couple weeks, choosing to ignore the mirrors in the bathroom, but he knows even within a few days his appearance has gone downhill. His hair is falling out more and more, his skin becoming pasty and bones beginning to show through in some places.  
     Dean visits everyday for two weeks solid, some nights choosing to stay in Cas’ room and sleep uncomfortably in a chair next to his bed.  
     Cas tries to let Dean have his caretaker moments for those weeks, but his patience dries up four days before Christmas Eve when Dean tries for the third time that day to sit Cas up in his bed so he can slip a bedpan under him.  
     “I can fucking do it myself, Dean!” Cas finally snaps, pushing at Dean’s chest, not even moving him.  
     “I’m just trying to help!” Dean yells back, throwing his hands up in exhaustion.  
     “I don’t want your help! I don’t need your help. I didn’t fucking want anyone around. Do you not get it? I said goodbye to my friends and family already. And then you came in and refused to leave - seeing me like this! Just fuck off. I’m done; I don’t want to see you here anymore. Just let me die in peace. Can you let me do that?” Cas falls back against his pillow, his outburst having taken all his strength.  
     It’s breathlessly still in the room for what feels like forever before Dean leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Cas’ forehead. “I love you, Cas. So much. I always will, I promise you that,” he says quietly, staying bent over, head buried into Cas’ neck, waiting for a response that Cas won’t give.  
     Dean leaves after that, planning to give them both a couple days break and come back Christmas Eve morning.  
  
     In the early hours of Christmas Eve morning, while it’s still dark out, Dean gets a phone call.  
     “Mmm, hello?” he croaks.  
     “Dean…” Anna’s voice cracks.  
     “What’s wrong?” Dean asks, scrambling out of bed, in turn waking Sam up. “What happened?” He jumps around, trying to slip his legs into jeans as Sam gets up and does the same without a word.  
     “He’s gone, Dean,” Anna says, not bothering to hide the tears in her voice. “About twenty minutes ago. I came in to do my early rounds and he wouldn’t wake up. There’s some of h-his things here he wanted you to have. You should come by and get them. I’ll be calling his brother, Gabriel, soon.”  
     “I’ll be there in five minutes,” Dean says, running out the door, Sam right behind him.  
     He somehow makes it in three and a half minutes, doubled over and out of breath outside of Cas’ room. He peers in to see nurses flitting around an empty bed, sheets already changed and made as if there hadn’t been a man living in it for the past few months.  
     Dean looks over his shoulder to his little brother, who in turn pats his back and says, “I’ll wait out here. Take your time.”  
     Anna looks up when he enters the room, her eyes rimmed red and a little puffy. She steps over to him and hugs hum unable to keep herself from doing it. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” she cries softly. She pulls away and wipes her cheeks with a waded up tissue. “He left you this. I guess he had a feeling…it’d be soon. He wrote it the last time you were here, when you guys fought.” She picks up a piece of paper from the nightstand by the bed and hands it to him.  
     “I’ll give you some priv - “  
     “No, you can stay,” Dean interrupts, catching her wrist as she turns to go. He sits on the empty bed, pulling her down next to him. “Dean,” he reads aloud. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I’m so very grateful for everything you’ve done for me and continued to do for me as I’ve become more and more of an ass. As much as I didn’t want a friendship or relationship with anyone at the end of my life, I’m beyond happy that you unconciously entered my life.” Dean and Anna giggle.  
     “You made these last few months such a joy for me even if I didn’t act like it, and I hope you remember only the good days you gave me.  
     I love you, Dean.”  
     Dean drops the letter to his lap and Anna rests her head against his shoulder. “He really did love you,” she says. “Anyone could see it.”  
     “I just…kinda wish I’d heard him say it out loud, just once,” Dean confesses.  
     “Oh!” Anna grapples in her pockets and pulls out her iPhone. “He had me record this after he wrote that. I completely forgot about it.” She pulls up her photo album and selects a video, handing it to Dean. It begins to play and the camera is focused on a sad and tired-looking Cas in his bed.  
     “Dean…I love you, too,” Cas says to the camera breathlessly. “I’m sorry I don’t say it back. I suppose I’m trying to hold onto the guise that this all went as I’d planned it and I didn’t fall in love with someone I’ve barely spent any time with - Anna, don’t cry.”  
     The video shakes and Anna’s shaky voice says, “I’m sorry. I - I’m not. Ignore me, I’m just a sap.” Dean laughs absently, putting an arm around the redhead next to him, his own tears falling freely down his face.  
     “But I mean it, Dean. I love you so much.” Cas nods and the screen goes black, the video finished.  
     Dean straightens up and clears his throat, wiping at his face. “Will you send this to me?”  
     “Sure thing,” Anna says, taking her phone back. “Gabriel should be here any minute if you want to meet - “  
     “That’s okay,” Dean says, standing up and adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Will you just get the, uh…funeral details and send them my way?”  
     Anna nods, giving him one more tight hug before he exits the room. He replays the video of Cas back to back on his way back to the motel with his brother, every time saying to the recording, “I love you, too, Cas.”


End file.
